Take Me With You
by Mossnose173
Summary: My first fanfiction story. A murder in Ohio calls the attentions of the BAU. A case involving a young girl who leaves a lasting impression on the agents. A little twist on Criminal Minds with my own OC added to the mix.
1. Prologue

**A/N: This is my first fanfiction ever written and it is the first of a series; I really intended for these stories to be as book-like as possible so if there are some really long and drawn-out sections i'm sorry. This is a little AU, fits into the series when Seaver was a part of the cast but later stories could go anywhere. There is some violence in the story so please DO NOT READ if sensitive to details about violent acts.  
****Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal minds or any of its characters.  
****Feel free to review and give me some feedback where you see fit. Enjoy! :)**

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The car door shut with a slam! It didn't matter how much noise he made, the phone lines had already been cut. The man looked up at the windows; they were all as dark as death itself. He walked up to the front door, silently picked the lock with ease, and entered the house. It was as dark as it seemed from the outside; just the way he wanted it to be. He walked straight up the stairs that lay in front of him. With his footsteps as quiet as the home around him, no one would suspect a thing.

He reached the top and stood in the middle of the hallway. To his left would be the master bedroom and a bathroom. To his right were two smaller bedrooms. He didn't need to look to know this; he knew this house as well as he knew his own name.

Filled with resentment and purpose, he strode to the left. He gazed in from the doorway; the door had been left open by the exhausted person who only wanted to sleep. The room looked like any ordinary master bedroom with its wooden dressers, a few assorted chairs, a closet in the corner, and a queen-sized bed that contained two sleeping bodies.

The man smiled, this plan that had been implanted in his mind for so long was now happening. He took a few more silent strides closer to the bed when he stopped. There was a shuffling noise outside the room. He turned around swiftly, afraid he had been discovered.

It was just the cat, attempting to climb down the stairs still in its dazed, sleepy state. The man chuckled to himself silently and returned to his mission. He turned and moved closer to the bed. The left side had a woman enshrouded under the covers while the right hid the man of the household. The intruding man walked to the right side; this was all perfectly planned ahead. He reached into his left jacket pocket and pulled out a knife. It wasn't too large in size; the blade was about four inches long, but seemed as sharp as glass from a broken window. He held it out in front of the sleeping man and without hesitation, slit the man's throat cleanly and most importantly, silently. The dead man lay there, no longer breathing, unable to scream.

The killer looked down at him with no remorse and walked around to the other side. He stared down at the woman as he had done with the man. With the same lack of hesitation, he slit her throat as he had the man's. No noise erupted from either of the homemakers. The room was completely silent, not a noise could be heard throughout the house. Only the chirping of cicadas outside the walls broke the eerie silence.

He slipped the knife back into his pocket and stalked out of the room. In the hallway, a pervasive thought occurred to him. Rather than retreating back down the stairs, the murderer continued straight toward the other bedrooms. Both doors were closed. He silently opened the first one.

It was empty, intriguing him to continue to the next room. Here he saw a normal teenage girl's room; a desk, a closet full of clothes, a T.V., and a single sized bed with pillows and body sleeping soundly in it. He moved closer to the bed. The girl lie facing him with her eyes closed in a peaceful, easy sleep. She had long blonde hair and tan skin from her days spent out in the sun. Her right arm and head were the only things sticking out of the blankets on this cool summer evening. She looked so serene and innocent in the man's eyes.

Something came over him, he couldn't stop it. The urge to follow this mission was intensifying and no matter how wrong the task felt or no matter how much he didn't want to follow through, he had to finish what he started. A single tear dripped down his cheek as he took the knife out again. _He told me to. I have to do this._ He thought, fighting back his regrets.

Holding the blade out with his left hand, he slowly cut a slit in the girl's forehead. But before the girl could realize what was happening and awaken, he stabbed her right arm, sticking it into the mattress. Now she was wide awake, but it was too late; the man was gone.


	2. Chapter 1

She looked around at the room. Nothing moved and nothing made a sound. Looking down at the source of irritation, she suddenly realized what was wrong. A knife had been plunged into her gangly arm. With tears springing from her eyes, she used her free arm to yank the knife out and drop it to the floor. Grasping her right arm, she sat up in pain. A thin stream of liquid dripped down her forehead and she reached up to feel the blood seeping out of her cut. More tears cascaded down her cheeks.

"Mom!" she screeched, "Dad!"

No response came back to her.

"Mom! Dad!" she yelled in desperation. _Where are they? I need help!_ "Mom!"

Still no response. Curiosity and pain get the best of her and she got out of bed, stepped over the bloody knife on the floor, and walked into the hallway. Her slow footsteps made no noise as she reached the master bedroom entrance. She called their names again at the no sound in return; she walked in and turned on the overhead light. A quick glance of horror rendered her speechless. Looking away and shutting her eyes tight, the girl struggled to contain her sobs. The image of her parents won't leave her mind. Their peaceful bodies. The blood everywhere.

Turning away with strained difficulty, the girl reached for the phone in the hallway. She dialed 911, trying to rid her mind of the images of grief. No sound is heard. She tried again and still nothing happened. A series of tears rolled down her face as she realized this night could not get any worse.

Her cell phone was the next thing that came to mind. Walking over to her room, she pondered over what her future would hold. Her parents were dead; she had nothing to do, nowhere to go. More tears skimmed her cheeks. What would happen to her?_ I have to contact Him…Maybe I can stay with Him..If He wanted me too…He said…The last time we met He said He would bring me something big to work on…No, stop. Stop thinking about Him. You have to be strong, think about your parents. How can you help them?_

As she stepped into her room she glanced down at the floor by her bed. There, hidden in the darkness, something silver and black shimmered a beautiful sparkle. In amazement, she went over to inspect the object; it was the knife. No, not just any knife; the knife that slither forehead, the knife that stabbed her arm, the knife that killed her parents.

She picked it up and held it weakly in her right hand. Still staring at the foreign object, she involuntarily walked over to her desk where her cell phone sat. Immediately after dialing 911 a calm voice came through the top of the phone. The girl answered every question the voice had and explained her situation routinely without thought. While on the phone, the girl walked through the hall and glanced into the master bedroom with longing before going down the stairs. She walked through the dining room, into the kitchen, and looked out into her scenic backyard. Everything was a pale dark outside; nothing moved, nothing was disturbed; it seemed so peaceful to her.

The voice on the phone regained her attention as it replied, "Stay where you are. Police officers are on their way to help you. Don't hang up the phone."

The girl listened, instead of hanging up, she set the phone down on the counter. Still grasping the knife, she walked away into the mud room.

Suddenly a noise came from behind her, "Meow!" Her cat, Simon, sat behind her, licking his paws. She smiled a simple smile, sniffed back some tears, and wiped her nose as she reached down to pet the cat with her free hand. The girl turned to the left and looked to the backdoor- it was still locked, as it was before she fell asleep._ The man must have come through the front door_. She unlocked it and peered out through the window once more to see the serenity of the yard for perhaps the last time. The sun cast its' rising rays across the yard, shining spectacularly between the leaves of the trees and highlighting the dew covered grass.

She decided to walk out to the wooden swing that sat in the middle of the fenced in property. She needed time alone, to think, to mourn, to be strong. What could she do next? Her parents were dead. Where could she stay? What could she do?

Walking through the cool, damp grass in her bare feet made the girl feel refreshed. She sat down on the far right side of the swing with the knife and her right arm concealed behind the rest of her body. Her head was ducked down towards the right to keep her secret marks hidden from any intrusive, curious person. In the time to come she would occasionally bring her left arm up to wipe the blood away from her eyes.

She felt so hollow inside. All she wanted was to be left alone to think. _Think, Riley. He said you were strong; He said your mind is strong. Use your mind. Do what you're good at and help. Help find who did this. And learn. He always encourages you to learn and this seems like a great time to do so. You can get through this, do what you do best. Follow His rules and make Him proud and you'll get through this._

It took the police about ten minutes, after the girl laid the phone down, to get to the sorrow-ridden home. This gave her plenty of time to gather herself, be strong, and think. The questions became clearer and more meaningful in her head._ Who was that man? Why did he leave her alive? What was going through his mind at the time? Where am I going to get all of these answers...I know just where- my mind._


	3. Chapter 2

**The BAU in Quantico, Virginia.**

"What's the case Garcia?" Hotch asks as he enters the conference room. A large oval table fills the center of the room. A sleek, flat screened T.V is mounted halfway up the wall, surrounded by windows overlooking Quantico, Virginia. Chairs surround the table, most occupied by the agents: SSA Derek Morgan, SSA David Rossi, SSA Dr. Spencer Reid, technical analyst Penelope Garcia, and Cadet Agent Ashley Seaver. Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner comes in, closes the door, and takes a seat between Rossi and Garcia.

"Murder of a man and woman, married couple, in a small town in Ohio," Garcia replied while typing away on her laptop. Images of the scene project onto the white screen on the wall across from the windows. The mother and father lying in bed, stained with blood appears, followed by less significant images portraying the home.

"Were there any survivors?" Morgan asked, paging through the case report.

"Yes. The daughter was able to call the police," Garcia responded.

"Alright, Morgan and Reid, go to the crime scene. See what you can gather there. Find out more about how the parents were killed and get tabs on the daughter. See if she knows anything. Rossi and Seaver, you go around the neighborhood, asking neighbors if they know anything. I will go to the police station and see what they know," Hotch directed.

**Crime Scene in Ohio.**

Reid and Morgan exit the black SUV and step down onto the blacktop driveway. The sun is high in the sky and it shines brightly down on the house before them. A few police cars are parked around them while one officer comes out of the home, gets in a vehicle, and drives away.

The house was a normal sized home, the ideal size for the modern American family. The siding was a light shade of green; a soothing, relaxing green. Everything about the house seemed new- recently installed windows, new siding, newly shingled roofs, and elegant flowers growing in multiple flower beds around the home. Medium sized trees, planted only a decade and a half before, are growing around the front of the property. Despite the pleasant ambience, the events that occurred inside the home could be felt from the outside, sending a chill down anyone's spine who stared at the home long enough.

The agents walked into the house and found only a few police officers milling around- taking pictures or collecting samples. In such a small town, a need for more officers was never necessary. Murder cases like this only came around once every lifetime.

A tall, authoritative figure talking with another officer looks up from his conversation to see the agents enter the home. The man walks over to them and introduces himself with confidence, "Hello! You must be the FBI agents we called in for. I'm Officer Williams; you can call me Jack though, that's my first name."

"I'm agent Morgan and this is Dr. Reid," Morgan introduces to Officer Williams as they shake hands. "What can you tell us about what happened here?"

"The man and woman were killed upstairs in their bed while they were sleeping last night. Both of their necks were slit and the medical examiner hasn't determined at what time they were killed yet. We noticed that the phone lines were cut too; most likely before he entered the home."

"Can we have a look at the scene?" Reid asks, looking around at the sweet, rustic kitchen.

"Sure can," Officer Williams says as he directs them through the homey dining room and up the stairs. All of the rooms seemed to be well furnished, giving off a comfortable feeling in the home.

At the top of the stairs they took a left and entered the master bedroom. Two other officers from the local police station are there examining the scene as well. The three newcomers walk over to the right side of the bed and look down at the man's body.

The body, now cold, has a deep gash cut horizontally across his throat, almost decapitating the man. The eyes of the defenseless man remain shut. He never saw this coming; never expected this to happen to him and his family.

"The unsub was extremely enraged; look how deep that cut is. It takes a lot of rage, a lot of drive to do something that intense," Reid described as he examined the body aloud.

Morgan walked around the bed and added, "He did the same to the woman; same depth, same intensity. He must have been angry at both of them. But for what? What drove him to do this, to go to this extent?"

"He was methodical," Reid puts in. "This was carefully planned out; how else would he have executed this without waking the parents? And the daughter! Where is the daughter? She survived, correct?"

"Oh yes, I think one of my officers said he saw her out in the backyard. We left her alone because she seemed at peace out there and we already had out hands full with all of this. We only have so many men you know…" Officer Williams answers.

"Do you know her name?" Morgan questions the officer as they exit the room and head for the backyard.

"Her name is Riley Walker. She's 13 years old and attends the local junior high school here. She's lived here her whole life with her parents."

"I think we should go get her view on this," Reid said.

The officer peeled off after the trio walked down the stairs and headed toward the mud room at the back of the house. He found he was needed more to console a younger officer who was vigorously writing away in a small note tablet. The agents continued out into the room that had led the young girl out into her tranquil world just hours before.

Out in the yard, the agents witnessed just how calming this metropolis was. A simple wooden fence served as border that complimented the breath-taking scenery, a wonderland of greenery. In every direction there was some kind of exotic vegetation. From fruitful trees to bamboo stalks to low growing moss that seemed to lick up into the air, giving the rest of its surroundings a fresh, crisp look. In the middle of the luscious yard sat a traditional wooden swing. On the far right of this swing sat a peaceful figure looking out at the vivid sanctuary around her.

The agents walked out to the swing, stood at the opposite side, and looked at the girl who seemed as mysterious as the death of her parents. Her body language was secretive, not even she knew how she felt at the moment._ He warned me about police. He said they were the ones to watch out for these days. Corruption everywhere. Can't trust them. But…my parents…I need them…_

Riley sat with her body turned away from the agents; her head was ducked down toward the armrest, hiding her slit forehead from the strangers. She kept her right arm down to her side so it too was hidden from their view. The glistening knife that caused so much damage in the last 12 hours lay on her lap with her left arm concealing it. She didn't know whether to expose its whereabouts or just keep it to herself. She didn't know what to give up to these people; could she trust them?_ He warned me about trusting…He said to trust Him and my family. That's it._

"Riley Walker? We're here with the FBI investigating what happened here. My name is Spencer Reid and this is my colleague Derek Morgan. We want to help in any way we can." Reid introduced softly, showing the girl they were no threat to her.

_The FBI…oh man, I'm in deep here…_

"Okay," is all Riley could reply with as the struggle between trusting them or not raged in her mind.

"Riley, can you tell us anything you know about the man who did this?" Morgan asked just as gently.

"Not really," she replied, keeping her glance down to her right. She thought of how to help them without putting too much trust in these strangers, "I don't…I don't really know what happened."

"What do you know?" Morgan pressed.

"I woke up and found my parents…dead. That's…that's it."

There was a long silence while the agents thought Riley would continue. Finally after careful consideration of how to ask it, she wondered aloud, "If the man left something behind, do you think…do you think he would come back for it?"

"That depends what that something is. If it's something of importance he might. Why do you ask?" Reid remarked.

"No reason, just wondering I guess."

"What would he come back for?" Morgan asked.

For a minute Riley sat there and considered her position._ Should I show them the knife? He never said why I shouldn't trust them…I think...I think I need to. I think this definitely calls for an exception to His rules. Now, how should I show them?_ She glanced at the glimmering object in her lap and touched it with her fingers. It was so smooth. The only unappealing part was the jagged edges toward the base of the blade. The knife seemed so flawless, despite its streaks of blood. The longer she looked at it the more it seemed to glow in the late morning sun. _It wasn't all bad. Not everything bad is all bad. Everything has some good in it. Like these agents, perhaps. There must be some good in them for me to trust them…Or like the man who…who killed my parents. There had to be a purpose. I know there has to be a reason; and I need these agents to help me figure it out._

"Riley?" Reid inquired, concerned with her lack of response.

Instead of replying, Riley grasped the knife by the handle and with her left hand, tossed it to the opposite side of the swing where it landed in the grass with a soft _thud_. As she tossed the dagger, several lingering drops of blood slid off her forehead onto her T-shirt.

Reid, noticing the blood, asked with concern, "What's wrong?"

"What? Nothing, nothing's wrong," she replies quickly, turning farther away from the agents.

"Riley, tell us what's wrong. Are you hurt?"

_I can trust them…they sound genuinely concerned…I can trust them._ Riley repeats to herself. She hesitates but takes her glance away from the plants on the ground and shows the agents the still oozing slit. She looks up at the pair for a moment with her clear blue eyes, seeing their faces for the first time. But her shyness, anxiety, and fear of her own mind overcome the girl and she finds she can no longer hold their gazes. She looks down at their feet with modesty.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" Reid asked with surprise; amazed at how she hid this for so long. Again, she does not speak- just raises her right arm and places it on her lap, exposing the bloody gash on her arm. Morgan takes a glance at her wounds and kneels down to inspect them.

"You definitely need these looked at," he conceded. "The one in your arm is deep. The pain must be excruciating, can't you feel it?"

"I'll…I'll be fine," she stammered, self-conscious of the agents paying so much attention to her. "Let's just go."

Riley got up and walked over to where the agents were standing. The others waited as Morgan took out a plastic bag, placed the knife in it, and returned the bag and its contents to his pocket.

All three walked slowly and silently back into the house. The house where nothing will ever return to the way it was. Inside, police officers were still documenting evidence furiously. Morgan went up to the chief officer, explained what they discovered, handed him the bag, and returned to the group. They left the house through the front door and got into the black SUV Morgan and Reid arrived in. The agents sat up front while Riley sat in the back alone.

It was a quiet ride to the hospital. Riley didn't mind, it gave her time to think. Riley was smart for her age, not just book smart though – in everyday life too. She could easily understand reasons for why people did the things they did. For instance, if she saw a man walking down the street, fidgeting as he walked, glancing up at other pedestrians' faces then shooting his gaze down; she could connect the dots and tell that he was agitated and most likely nervous- something was bothering this man enough that he displayed it prominently. Something large or important must be the problem. If he were simply irritated it wouldn't show like this- he has to be really upset, something big is wrong- perhaps something life altering. This is what Riley could do best; from the time of her first memories, she knew she was always good at body language, facial expressions, and reading people; that's how He found her. But now, Riley wanted to know more about what these agents were about; to really see them when they couldn't see her. She started with the driver, Derek Morgan.

Agent Derek Morgan was a tall, muscular African-American man. Outside he seemed tough; physically strong. Inside though, that was a whole other story. He could be gentle, but at the same time he was guarded; he only expressed entirely with close friends, friends like family. Sure the other agents on his team made a good "family" but he just couldn't come completely clean with them. Nothing could ever take up that empty space; he was scarred by his shattered biological family. He would struggle to maintain a steady relationship because of this past. It was hard for him to put too much trust on a single person. Few have ever gained that trust, for too many had destroyed it before. Derek tried not to think of his shortcomings; he was afraid the team would see him as incompetent and broken. He had to act like the exact opposite he felt everyday to keep up his image among the group. He couldn't let anyone else in; no one would understand what he's been through.

"You okay back there?" Morgan asked while glancing back through the rear-view mirror at Riley. She was staring off into space, her eyes fixed on the windshield between the two front seats.

"I'm fine," Riley answered keeping her gaze in the same place.

Agent Spencer Reid was a skinny, medium height, awkward guy. He seemed young for his position in the FBI, probably skipped a few grades in primary school. Doing that would not have exactly made him the popular kid in school. He was probably always picked upon and this lack of social skills has translated into his life today. Of course he didn't need these great social skills; with his intellect he could go anywhere and do anything he wanted- in his mind. Although he has such a successful career now, Reid was still unsatisfactory with his life. He made a mistake somewhere along the way and he will never be able to forgive himself for it. This mistake happened to someone he deeply cared about; it was for the best but he can never see it that way. Like Agent Morgan, Reid grew up from a broken family. His parents weren't the best help to him- even if he didn't need it. They wanted to be there for him but they just couldn't; something was stopping them from doing this. He felt an emptiness inside him where the joys and memories of childhood should go. This void was left unfilled for it could never be filled, no matter how good life got now.

All of this information Riley could gather by being around these two agents for less than half an hour. It took a lot out of her to read into people like this; to see their innermost thoughts and feelings; to do what she does best. After this time-consuming chore was over, Riley sat back and relaxed. She estimated it was another five minutes or so until they arrived at the hospital. Plenty of time for her to relax after her recent events.


	4. Chapter 3

At the hospital the trio sat in the waiting room, surrounded by an awkward silence, for about 10 minutes before Riley was sent back for x-rays. The doctors were concerned the knife could have caused bone damage. While the x-rays developed, the nurse put 18 stitches in her forehead to heal the cut. The x-rays came back and showed a small chip in her radius. The doctors cleaned up the wound then put a cast around her forearm. The bulky cast felt awkward on her skinny arm but it would only be on for two or three weeks. Riley and the agents thanked the doctor before they left the hospital.

Heading back to the police station, the trip was short and quiet. No one had anything to say, nothing could be said. On the contrary, when they arrived at the station, it seemed as busy and restless as a Macy's on Black Friday. The building was small, like the amount of officers, but with the BAU agents it was overwhelming. As soon as Riley entered the building she stopped in awe; there was so much information each person knew about this case. There was so much Riley could learn here. _Where am I going to start?_

Morgan walked over to a rectangular table with a few other, professional looking people standing around it, glancing and pointing at photos and other papers. Reid directed Riley over to two chairs sitting by the wall in a rare, lonely part of the room. She sat down in the chair nearest the corner and the plastic potted plant. Riley wanted a good seat, one that captured everything going on. The chair wasn't very comfortable though, and she found herself fidgeting often as she thought.

After she sat down Reid spoke, "Alright. Stay here for now, Riley. I or one of the other agents will be back to talk to you."

"Okay," she replied half heartedly. She was already thinking of how she will take in all of the information around her. So deep in thought, she didn't even notice Reid as he walked over to the table where Morgan and the other agents were discussing their own information.

Riley sat back in the chair, extended her legs and crossed them at her ankles, then crossed her arms below her chest and let her brain go to work. She started with the killer and analyzed him with the information she knew. _He was cowardly and definitely not a risk taker. If he was, he would have woken the parents and faced them before slitting their throats. Instead he killed them in their sleep. He didn't want to risk one waking the other and ruining the plan. He was cautious too, overly so. He thought of cutting the phone lines before he even entered the home. It seemed he wanted to be extra sure he wouldn't be caught. Either he was as first time genius and knew what could go wrong, or he's done something like this before- that means he could have a record. He didn't exactly seem like the genius type; while this was so well organized, it also felt messy. He must have some kind of record, whether it was something simple like assault or something significant like an initial murder. Regardless, he could be sent straight back to jail if and when he was caught._

As Riley sat and thought, she tapped her left index finger against the stone-like cast. The cast was very contradicting, it had many bumps, but yet, it was smooth. Smooth like the side of the knife that slit her parents' throats._ Why had the man decided to use a knife instead of a gun? Or his hands? Yes it was quieter, but a silencer pistol could have been just as silent. A knife would let the man feel what he was doing without laying a hand on the victim. But if he used his hands, it would have taken longer and risked the other waking up. He wouldn't take that risk. He wanted to feel the life leave their bodies without his fingerprints being on the bodies and without taking unnecessary risks. Although he probably already wore gloves so his fingerprints wouldn't show on anything; he doubted his ability of being able to kill them before they overpowered him and disrupted his plan. The need for closeness shows this must have been personal to him._

Riley figured she could conclude four things from her analysis. 1) This man was not a big risk taker. He did ever had some type of record that the government could identify him with if he was ever suspected. 3) He found himself weak and unable to fulfill certain tasks because of this. 4) This man killed these people because there was some sort of personal connection. He didn't do this for the thrill or because it fit a pattern, he did it because it needed to be done in his mind.

Riley folded her arms and legs and relaxed more in her seat._ Should I share this with the agents? I want to find out who did this. I need to. And they can help. But what will they think of me? Will they accept me? Accept me like He did?_ She dazed over at all the people standing around the table by Reid and Morgan, and assumed that everyone at the table, except those in police uniforms, were also part of the FBI._ They look trustworthy. They took to me to the hospital and cared for me. That's it. I have to trust them; I'll give them what I found out. It's the least I can do._

Everyone at the table was looking down at the papers and documents scattered across the tabletop; occasionally someone would move a paper or two into a different location. With a quick glance around the room, Riley noticed no one was paying attention to her. Full of curiosity, she stood up, got a glimpse of the papers on the table, and sat back down.

Some people from the table thought they saw the girl move, but when they got a good look at her she was sitting in her chair, peacefully, innocently staring at the wall in front of her. Those people then shrugged to themselves and got back to work. Once Riley knew no one was looking at her, she raised her arm to cover her face, and cracked a smile. The seriousness of the moment came back to her after a few seconds and her face fell. Now wasn't the time to be making jokes and pulling tricks.

Recollecting on what she saw, Riley recalled most of the papers on the table were photographs. She couldn't tell what the captured images were of, but her guess was on her parents and the scene. What could she gather from these images? Nothing. Riley shook her head, trying to get the images out of her head. She already saw them once; once was enough.

As time stretched on, Riley grew restless in her seat in the corner. She watched people enter and exit the building. She noticed that more left than entered so throughout the day the building became less crowded and the noise lowered. There wasn't much to do here but to think- to do what she did best. But as she analyzed these authoritative figures, she felt wrong. Like it was wrong to uncover a person's secrets. If it felt so wrong, why did He encourage it?

Finally after what summed like days of solitary confinement, Reid and another man Riley didn't know walked over and brought an end to her excessive thoughts.

"Riley, this is Agent David Rossi. He works with Agent Morgan and me," Reid addressed as he indicated toward the new companion.

"Hello," Riley replied cautiously.

"How are you feeling, Riley? I know it's been sort of a long day for you," Rossi asked, empathetic.

"I'm okay. I…I don't feel too different right now. I guess this just kind of feels like a bad dream. A dream I'm never going to wake up from. I just…I don't know how to feel about it yet," Riley answered, shifting her gaze to the floor. Eye contact was not her virtue.

"It's okay to grieve you know. You're allowed to mourn. It's perfectly normal for someone in your position to need some time to grieve," Rossi said.

"I know, but I don't need time to grieve. I want to find who did this." She looks up at the agents in front of her with determination. After taking a deep breath she goes on, "I want to help you find who did this."

There was a short silence as Rossi and Reid pondered why this girl, this apparent victim, would want to help. How could she possibly help them? She was a child!

Riley couldn't take their silent, puzzled looks anymore. She had to start the discussion, "Did you find out anything about how they were killed? Any…any information at all?"

"We…we can't tell you that, Riley. We're not supposed to discuss anything about the case with…anyone involved," Rossi replied with awkwardness.

Riley rolled her eyes and returned confidently, "I'll tell you what I know if you tell me what you know."

"What do you know?" Rossi questioned.

"That depends on what you know."

"Riley if you know something about this you have to tell us. This is serious business." Rossi stated with an air of authority.

"I will tell you what I know. After you tell me what you found out," Riley remarked, holding her ground.

"Why are you doing this?" Reid asked, with a voice filled more with curiosity than anger.

"I've had a lot of time sitting here to think. I figured both of us have nothing to lose and lots to gain by doing it this way," Riley answered coolly.

"Why do you want to help us? It's extremely unusual for someone in your position to want to help like you are suggesting," Reid continued.

_I'm getting really tired of hearing _**_someone in my position. _**_I'm not like someone in this position. I'm not like anyone._ She resists an eye roll and replies, "I want to know what you know. And I want to help you. Is that so bad?"

Reid and Rossi looked at each other. It wouldn't be a bad thing to have her help. Information was always useful and essential from a victim's stand point. But how reliable would Riley's information be?

After an awkward moment of silence between them, Rossi spoke, "One moment please." Riley nodded and they took a few steps away until they felt they were out of earshot.

"Do you think we should tell her?" whispered Reid.

"It would be breaking protocol to tell another person information about the case," Rossi began.

"But she's a big part of this case. I think we need what she has."

"And the only way she'll give it up is if we tell her what we know…do you think it's worth it?"

Reid looked over at the young teenager. _She seems tough, mentally; and trustworthy like she wouldn't trick about something like this._ He looked back to Rossi, "I think we should do it."

"Then let's do it," Rossi concluded. The pair walk back to a pensive Riley, sitting in the spot they left her. "We will tell you."

"Alright, go ahead," Riley nodded, serious and attentive.

"We know that they died around 2:30 this morning. We worked out that the killer came in through the front door, climbed the stairs, and entered their room. He slit the man's throat first, then the woman's. He then proceeded to your room…and made a quick getaway. We still aren't sure how he made his exit though. There were also no fingerprints, other than yours, on the knife," Reid declared. He spoke quickly but efficiently; getting the potentially sensitive information out as fast as possible.

"Hmmm," Riley thought aloud, "You guys went for the physical evidence first, I see. Not bad, not bad. Good explanation."

"What do you mean 'physical evidence?' What else did you have in mind?" Rossi asked, wondering just how much this girl knew.

"Other evidence like what and why the killer did what he did," she explained. "Did you figure any of that not-so-obvious information out yet?"

"No, we didn't gather enough facts yet…." Reid mumbled.

"What?" Riley teased.

"Just tell us what you know," Rossi interrupted.

"Alright," Riley started. "So, there are four major points. Number 1; the killer was not a big risk taker. He didn't like to be in dangerous situations."

As Riley was taking a pause to say her next discovery, Reid objected, "How do you know this?"

Riley let out a loud sigh and explained, "He cut the phone lines before it was even needed, and he wore gloves when he used a knife. You said so yourself that he did not leave any fingerprints on the knife. Also, he killed them while they were sleeping. He wasn't man enough to face them before he killed them. He was a coward. He wanted to be very careful about not being caught, extra careful. This brings me to the next thing. But first, any other questions so you won't rudely interrupt?"

"Continue," Rossi grunted as he pondered over her explanation.

"Next, he probably has some kind of record with the government. Maybe a rap sheet or maybe some kind of legal paper. Because regardless of what it is, if he is suspected and searched for identification, this paper will identify him. Any comments?"

"Explain your reasoning," Reid replied simply. He looked in a daze, gathering and interpreting all this information.

"The killer was super careful. Any regular killer would be cautious, but not this cautious. He assumed the worst right away, and so he was extra careful to avoid the worst case scenarios."

Neither Rossi nor Reid had anything to say as they connected all of the dots between one bit of information to the next so Riley continued to speak, "Number three; he finds himself incapable of doing things, he knows he's weak. That's one of the reasons why he decided to use the knife; he wasn't strong enough to kill them with his bare hands. He didn't want to risk them awakening and alerting someone, he knew he wouldn't be strong enough to handle two adults on his own. Any questions?"

"No, continue," Rossi murmured as he was still comprehending.

"The last thing, number four; this was a personal killing. The knife he used helped him to feel what he was doing, taking the lives of the victims. The knife was like an extension of himself…he wanted to feel this act; he wanted to fell his mission become a success. If this had been a random killing, the killer probably would have used a gun or something quicker," Riley finished and stared down to the floor again. "That's all I got." Her mood grew somber and serious as she explained the extent of her knowledge.

A few minutes passed as the agents thought of how to respond. Riley kept her eyes glued to the floor; it wasn't as hard when the thought stayed in her head. Now that they escaped, she didn't know what to do or how to react. Especially since neither of the agents responded. _He always responded and praised me after I explained something like this to Him._ _Am I wrong for telling these agents? What if they can't be trusted? What if…what if…I don't even know what they will do. I don't know these people. But what other choice do I have?_

Rossi's low voice interrupted Riley's thoughts, "How did you figure all that out?"

Something deep inside of her told Riley to trust them. _Do it! Do it!_ The voice screamed. "I…I don't know; I just started by asking myself a question and then I worked out the logical answers. If there was more than one answer to one question I'd work out the answer to the next question and see if it narrowed down the type of killer," Riley replied with her head still bowed and her eyes glossed over with sorrow. She didn't want to talk about this anymore. It's too personal. She just wanted to be alone. Alone with her own thoughts once more.

Reid stood straighter and finally put all the parts together; it wasn't just that it was hard to comprehend, Riley began to speed up her words toward the end- the words felt like poison as the left her mouth and she wanted to get rid of them. Reid had to play back all the words she said and then put them back together to understand fully. He wanted to understand this girl better, not just what she knew.

After much thought, he found the right words to say to her, to understand her more, "That was good, Riley. Have you ever found yourself doing this before?"

"I guess, kind of, I do something like that. I…I'm sorry. I really don't want to talk about this anymore. Can I just be left alone?" Riley replied, self-conscious and embarrassed. She already said too much to these two strangers. She didn't want to give up more of herself; she couldn't. Then they would know too much.

"It's okay, Riley. It's fine to tell us anything," Agent Rossi implored.

"I don't know. I just do it." Riley cuts her explanation short. Why should she trust these people with her personal life? She told them what she knew about the case and that's all they should need. She only needs their help solving this, she doesn't need helping making life decisions.

Riley sat with her legs tucked under the chair, her arms crossed on her lap, and eyes wide, staring at the floor. This was exactly what she didn't want to happen. She was beginning to feel the effect of her loss. It felt as though nothing in her life would ever be right.

**More to come soon!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Here's the next chapter! Sorry if this gets a little boring with the lack of action; I'm trying to set up a little platonic relationship between Reid and Riley. Feel free to review what you think!**

The agents saw how this affected her. This is information did make sense and they could use it. She may be a smart teenager, but she could still be mournful like the rest of them.

"Thank you for sharing that with us, Riley. Do you want to be left alone now?" Agent Rossi asked, trying to understand how this girl worked.

"Yeah, that would be best," Riley emitted. All the pride and enjoyment that was in her when she was bargaining was gone. The only thing that remained was discomfort. She was uncomfortable with her parents' deaths, she was uncomfortable about where she was at because of it, but most of all she was uncomfortable after giving up all that information about herself to these strangers. She was most uncomfortable about revealing how she thought and worked in front of these people- the very people He warned her about.

Even after the agents left, Riley kept her head bowed. She returned to her sitting position after about 15 minutes when her head felt like exploding from all of the blood rushing to it. When she looked back up, everything seemed peaceful as if the whole conversation had never happened. No one stopped and paid attention to the girl in the corner, even after her magnificent discovery.

She glanced at the table where all the agents had congregated not too long ago. Reid and Rossi were joined by a younger woman with blonde hair. The woman looked at her fellow agents with respect. _She must be younger and/or less experienced_, Riley thought.

Reid and Rossi continued talking in hushed tones for several minutes. The woman continued nodding her head approvingly, considering everything she was being told. Finally the men finished talking and Riley strained her ears to hear what they were saying. She knew the men must have told her of their recent discussion.

Riley listened as the woman spoke, "I details most likely do give an accurate profile for our guy. But what I want to know is how does she know all of this?"

"That's what we were having trouble grasping as well," Agent Rossi returned. "She's only 13 years old, barely through middle school, and yet she can gather information like this."

The three agents stood gazing at the table below for a few moments. Then the woman spoke again, "Reid?"

"What?" Reid shook his head slightly, clearing his thoughts and drawing them back to the people in front of him.

"What do you think about this?" Rossi prompted.

"What do I think about what?"

"What do you think about this girl? How does she know all of this?" the woman persisted.

"Oh,that," Reid said, obviously distracted. He stood for another minute, trying to understand his thoughts clearly. Finally, "I'm not sure yet…"

The woman and Rossi exchanged a glance and both simply nodded. They both decided not to prod Reid anymore for his answer on this; they'd rather speculate themselves.

_Either they have enough confidence in him to let him go on thinking on his own, or he's a lost cause. He doesn't _seem_ crazy_, Riley thought,_ he must be respected and known for thinking things through. _She felt privileged to be stumping this guy with her knowledge. She smiled to herself briefly, but then wiped the smirk off her face, realizing what others would think if they caught her smiling to herself._ Great, they are already judging me for what I know, I don't want to give them something else to judge me for._

Riley looked all around the room, thankfully no one was looking at her. She breathed a sigh of relief and turned her attention to the agents standing at the table.

"What makes us think we can trust her?" Seaver realized aloud.

"You have a point there; she could be giving us false information. Or maybe she's in on it and knows exactly who the unsub is," Rossi added.

"Yeah, but why would she do that?" Reid countered, "She just lost her family and now she might have to go into foster care if there's no one to take her in. If she knew who did this to her, don't you think she would want that person to brought to justice?"

"Perhaps," Rossi puzzled over the possibilities. He stood for a moment with his hand to his chin, deep in concentration. Realizing the younger agents standing there waiting for his orders, something to do, he stammered, "Oh, uh, why don't we go back to the crime scene and try to trace his escape route?"

"Good idea. The other officers are busy getting all the evidence logged, they probably haven't even though of that yet," Seaver agree as she grabbed her coat and started to leave.

"If you guys don't mind I think I'm going to stick around here and work some stuff out," Reid said.

"I don't have a problem with that. Go ahead," Rossi replied. He walked toward the door with Seaver following behind.

The two agents left the building, leaving even fewer people in it. Reid, Riley, and a few police officers remained in sight. Reid glanced over at Riley sitting in her chair. She was sitting in such a casual manner, nothing out of the ordinary, just simply staring out in front of her. Occasionally she would watch as an officer walked gym but she mainly sat still as a rock.

Reid thought he would leave her at peace so he walked over to the transparent, dry erase board that sat next to the table. He put his hand up to his chin to concentrate when a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"What is that?" Riley called from across the room.

Reid turned around to face her, "Oh, hi. It's just a dry erase board. We write information and put papers and photos that are important on it."

The girl got up and walked toward the board until she stood beside Reid. Staring up at the board looming in front of her, Reid noticed how curious she was about this. _Hasn't she ever seen one of these before? Or even any kind of white board? I don't see what's so special about it,_ he thought to himself.

"This is a good way to gather all of your thoughts. Everything you need is up here; it's much more organized than doing it all in your head," Riley marveled.

"Don't you ever write about what you're thinking? Like in a diary or something?" Reid mused.

Bursting out in a snicker, Riley replied, "A diary; that's a classic. Diaries aren't really," she hesitated, "my style. I like to keep things to myself."

Reid nodded but was at a lack of words. There was a long silence as they both gazed up at the board. Riley's eyes fixed on a photo of her father. The man she lovingly called "Dad" her whole life. His soft, gentle eyes stared back at her, seeming to support her even in the afterlife. His silent support gave her the confidence to suddenly speak her mind and open up these agents- starting with the one right beside her.

"You know, he wasn't my real father. I share no blood with the man who died last night."

"Why didn't you say that earlier?"

"It wasn't the right time," Riley replied distantly.

"What does that mean?"

"The topic never really came up. I guess I could have mentioned it when we were at the swing, but after that it would have sounded…odd. No one asked."

Reid thought for a moment, "That's not exactly one of the questions we are required to ask. Why did you call him 'Dad' then?"

"He's the only 'Dad' I've ever known. My mom said my real dad left before I was born. So, a little after I was born she remarried and I grew up with him as my father figure."

"Did you ever meet your real father?"

"No. I don't know why but he never came to visit or anything. My mom didn't even tell me about him. I found out on my own."

"How did you do that?"

"I was at the library one say and this guy came up to me. I didn't know him but he knew a lot about me- some things about me that I didn't even know. I was really young at the time so it was hard for me to understand. I remember it though."

"What did he tell you?"

"He told me stuff about my real dad…and some other things that made sense to me. I trusted him on it and it turned out to be true."

"That's it?"

"Basically," Riley said, ending the conversation. They both stood there in silence for moments. Although she was honest about this experience, Riley wasn't telling the whole truth. She had met this man and he tell her these things but there was more to the story.

As she recollected on the experience, Reid cut into her thoughts, "You're pretty mysterious, you know. It's like you want to talk, but then you hold back. It's almost like pulling teeth trying to get a complete story out of you."

"Like I said, I usually like to keep to myself. I like to keep things in my head." There's a pause before Riley continues timidly, "And hey Agent Reid?"

"Yes?"

"Could you like not tell anyone about this?"

The agent thought for a moment. _Should I agree or tell the other agents about Riley? There was some important information in what she just told me. But, was it so important to the case? The only important, relevant thing was the real relationship with her father. The others would out that wasn't Riley's real father eventually, right?_ He decided he would keep her secrets. Maybe she would open up more if he kept his side of the bargain.

Reid finally responded, "Sure but can I ask why? Why all this secrecy?"

"It just feels kind of personal. I've never told anyone else about my dad or this other guy. They just aren't really things I talk about with other people."

"Why do you trust me then?"

Riley thought about it before replying, "I don't know…I really don't know. I feel like I can trust you…and also I was really bored sitting over there and you were alone over here."

"Well if you're so bored, would you mind if I asked you some questions about what happened last night? It is kind of my job."

"I knew this would come eventually," she sighed inwardly then continued, "I don't mind. But can we sit down first; now I'm getting tired of standing already."

"Sure," he conceded. Reid led her over to the table behind them, cleared some space, and they sat down facing each other. Reid took a small tape recorder out of a nearby bag and set it on the table.

"Alright, can you tell me what you remember? Start at the beginning."

Riley gathered her thoughts and then began, "Okay. I was sleeping, well dreaming actually because I remember while I was in the dream I felt something slicing my forehead. It wasn't really anything more than just an itch so it didn't bother me much until my felt like it was going to fall off from pain. I opened my eyes and there was this knife in my arm. I didn't know where it came from; it was just the first thing I saw when I woke up.

Reid cuts in, "Are you sure no one was there? Maybe your mind is just blocking…"

"No. I know that no on was there when I woke up."

"Alright, go on."

"I called for my parents but no one came," Riley continued with a distant, glazed look in her eyes. "So I pulled the knife out…I pulled it out and dropped it to the floor. It didn't make noise when it fell. I stepped over it and walked to my parents' room and…and found them there. Their throats were slit and there…there was blood, everywhere. And..I couldn't look at them anymore. I tried to stay calm and call 911 but the phone in the hallway didn't work. I went back to my room to get my cell phone and…and…"

The girl paused abruptly. She kept her gaze on something far behind Reid's head. He met her eyes and saw her expression; he turned around suspiciously. Behind him the murder weapon was being placed into and evidence box by a police officer.

"Riley?" Reid pushed.

She held her gaze for another moment, shook her head slightly, blinked, and looked back at Reid. "Sorry, it's just that knife. That's what I saw when I came back into my room. I saw the knife on the floor. I went and picked it up because…because…I don't know why I did but I picked it up and carried it with me. Then I walked over to my desk and picked my phone up in my free hand. I dialed 911 and talked to the lady. I walked downstairs to the kitchen. I looked out the kitchen window so I could see the backyard. It looked really nice out there and I wanted to get the image of them out of my head so I tried to get as far away as possible at that moment. When the lady told me to wait, I put the phone down on the counter and walked outside. I sat down on the swing until you and Agent Morgan came to talk to me. I didn't even really feel where he hurt me until you guys showed up. I was left alone to think and all I could think about was seeing them there. And that image hurt me inside more than I hurt outside." A single tear rolls down her cheek as she finishes.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Riley. I wish you didn't have to go through all of that. And I'm especially sorry to have to keep pushing, but that's all you can remember?"

"Yeah, that's all I can remember."

"I see."

Riley wiped a remaining tear and glanced at him, "I feel like you have more to say. Say it."

"Well, it just seems odd that the unsub got out so fast…You didn't hear him run into anything did you? Any strange noises when you woke up? Think hard."

She closed her eyes and thought about the moment she awoke. "There…there was a like…a swooshing sound. It only lasted like a second…followed by a slamming sound. It wasn't loud at all, a very dull thudding sound, but I definitely heard that as I was pulling the knife out."

"Thank you, Riley. That helps a lot…" His voice was distant and now it was his turn to gaze deep in thought.

Riley looked at him and understood he should be left alone. "Okay, I'm going back to my hole now." She got up and walked back to her seat beside the plastic plant in the corner.

Reid didn't say anything else and he didn't watch her leave. He mindlessly grabbed the recorder to turn it off while he kept his mind reeling with all of this new information. _How did the killer get out so fast? What could that noise have been? Maybe Rossi and Seaver will be able to help after they've looked around there._

Knowing he couldn't continue more from here, Reid glanced back at Riley to see her resting. Her legs were outstretched in front while her arms were crossed sloppily over her stomach, and her head was tilted forward slightly. Her closed eyes were the only indication that she was truly asleep. _Have I been thinking that long or does she just fall asleep fast? Well, she did have a long night, she must be tired._

An hour passed and the police station was as quiet as ever. Riley remained sleeping in her chair and Reid read through the files on the table. He read through the family's files in a few minutes, but it was the other cases, the cases concerning other unnatural deaths in the town and surrounding areas, that made the process longer. So far, there were no similar characteristics that collaborated with their recent case.

As Reid was finishing a case pertaining to a young couple killed in a house fire four months before, Rossi and Seaver entered the building and approached the long table. The portfolio did not seem relevant so Reid shut the folder and looked up at the new arrivals.

"We looked all around the house and couldn't really find any real evidence explaining how he got out," Rossi stated.

"But we do have a theory," Seaver cut in.

"Alright, what is it?" Reid took the prompt.

"He could have vanished through the upstairs window in the hallway. But the sheer drop would have been extremely painful, if not fatal. Also, the window takes a few moments to get open, it took some tinkering just for Rossi and me to open it relatively fast," Seaver stated.

'Wait…a window was fairly close? Did it fall and close after you opened it? And did it make a quiet slamming noise?" Reid asked, remembering his conversation earlier.

"Yes, how did you know?" returned Seaver.

"Riley said she heard a noise…"

"She talked to you?!" Rossi sounded shocked. "Did you record it? Can we hear it again?"

"Of course," Riley replied while digging through the large mess of folders on the table in front of him. "Aha, here it is!" he exclaimed as he pulled it out and handed it to Agent Rossi.

Rossi and Seaver each took a seat at the table to listen to the tape. As they were about to begin, Rossi's cell phone rang. He picked it up and listened to the caller. After about a minute of silence Rossi spoke into the phone, "Alright, we're all here. And Reid got something; we were going to go over it but we'll wait for you to get here." Pause. "Yup, see-ya soon."

He hung up the phone and looked to the agents sitting in front of him, "That was Hotch. Morgan and he are on their way back here now. They didn't get anything. Let's wait until they return to listen to the tape. It'll only take a few minutes.

Seaver and Reid nodded in agreement and they all grabbed a folder from the table to read through. Ten minutes later, Hotch and Morgan arrived at the station and filled remaining chairs at the table.

"What do we got here?" Hotch asked.

"Reid got Riley to talk about what happened," Rossi stated proudly, as if her had been the one that got her to talk.

"Great work Reid. Let's hear it." Hotch reached across the table, grabbed the recorder, and hit play. No one spoke as the tape played every word of their conversation.

"Also, before you say anything about this, you all should know that she spoke to Reid and me before this. She had a good part of a profile working in her mind and she explained it, in depth to us," Rossi crowed.

"What did she think?" Morgan urged.

Reid told everyone Riley's theories about the killer and they all nodded in silent agreement. Seaver remembered her and Rossi's findings at the crime scene.

"Rossi and I went back to the crime scene and looked for areas where the unsub could have got out. The only way that made sense was the window in her room. And judging by Riley's account, it sounds like that could have been the window closing that she heard as she woke up. But it's a long way down and he had to have been hurt in the least," Seaver commented.

"So we have some ideas about this unsub. How about more about what he looks like? What are his physical features?" Rossi prompted.

"Well, he can't be too tall to be able to fit through the window. And to feel weak he's most likely weak in appearance," Seaver conceded.

"Yes, this isn't physical but, if this is a personal killing then the killer must know the family and the area. So he's lived here most of his life if not all of it. He might have worked for the family or with them," Morgan added.

"Let's call Garcia and see if she can narrow this down for us," Hotch concluded.

Morgan grabbed the laptop to his left and set it on the table. He set up a video chat with Penelope back at the BAU. She showed up on the screen and Morgan greeted her with a smile, "Hey baby girl."

"Hey handsome," she replied with the same enthusiasm. Morgan turned the computer so Garcia could see everyone at the table and they both became serious, focusing on the case.

"Garcia can you start a search for us?" Hotch asked.

"Of course, anything for my lovelies. What am I looking for?" Garcia inquired.

"A man who has lived here most or all of his life. He's going to be of medium build physically. He most likely has or had a job in this area, something that kept him around the Walker family. A record or some file about him is in the system somewhere," Hotch instructed.

"Alright, there is one man. Apparently not many men in this area have a criminal record and a job. Mason Anderson. He's a contractor in the area, and has helped with a few housing developments in the area in the last few decades. He's been arrested once for drug possession; possession of marijuana. After that there is a divorce file containing his name and a birth certificate that lists him as the father," Garcia real aloud from her computer screen.

"Who's the divorce with? And who's the child, Garcia?" Morgan asked.

"Oh now this is interesting. I love small town drama. It seems Mr. Anderson divorced our victim, Emily Walker when she was 7 months pregnant with child. All of this meaning, Riley Anderson, who legally had her name changed 13 months after birth to Riley Walker; her new legal father being our second victim Henry Walker, is Mason Anderson's biological daughter. The divorce paper states that Mason would have no contact with his daughter. No visiting, no time, no contact, no nothing."

"I think we should pay this man a visit. It sound like he could have had a few grudges against our deceased couple." Morgan remarked.

"I agree, Morgan. What's his address Garcia?" Hotch asked.

"152 East Maple Lane. He may not be there though. He checked into the local hospital this morning with a dislocated shoulder, but there system is slow, it doesn't say if he's been released yet or not."

"Reid and Seaver go to the hospital. If he's not there look at his file and get a good idea about him from that. Morgan and Rossi, come with me; we'll go to his address and see if he's there," Hotch instructed. "Thanks Garcia."

"That's what I'm here for!" Garcia replied before turning off the video chat.

The agents rose to exit and Seaver glanced up, to the corner with the plastic plant and the sleeping body of Riley in the chair next to it. "Hotch, what should we do about her?" she asked, indicating toward Riley.

"We should have someone stay and watch her, just in case she wakes up and wonders where everyone went and what's going on," Morgan added.

"Alright Seaver you stay with her. Rossi you go with Reid to the hospital," Hotch redirected. "We will call child services to take care of her when we get back."

Seaver nodded and sat down in one of the chairs facing Riley's corner. The other agents left the building and headed out in search of Mason Anderson. Alone, Seaver was left to her thoughts…


	6. Chapter 5

**I know it seems like Riley is an emotionless robot; I've tried to go back and edit some emotions in for her but there is only so much she can feel without having it compromise all of her thoughts. I tried to portray her as this brave, strong, independent girl but I think I took it a little too far. Her emotions do get better in letter stories but stay pretty concealed throughout this story. Feel free to give more feedback!**

* * *

All around her police officers were working diligently. Some were typing away on computers, others bagging evidence, and some, just sitting around talking. Seaver had seen rooms like this throughout her short career. Different places, same scene. She and her colleagues have seen so many families torn apart by events like this. Sometimes they ended with a happy ending, but more often, they didn't- just like her own family. As much as she wished, she could never go back and change her childhood. Now, with this job, the conversations about it were almost unavoidable. Looking at the young girl in the corner, she felt saddened and ashamed of herself as she did in every town or city they traveled to.

_No_, she told herself. _No. Not here. Not now._ Closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths helped Seaver calm herself._ Not every case is relatable to you, Ashley. Stop making everything so personal._ She changed her train of thought to focus on the girl; she was such a mystery and Seaver wanted to understand her.

_Something is off about her._ Her mind wandered back to the case surrounding the girl._ Why didn't the man kill her too? What makes her different from her parents?_ Seaver looked back at her again, still asleep in her chair.

As if thinking about her made it happen, Riley's eyes slowly opened. She blinked a few times, adjusting to the bright lighting in the building, and looked around her, slowly taking in her surroundings.

Riley and Seaver's eyes met and locked for a few moments. Seaver broke the tangible silence, "Hi Riley."

At the mention of her name, Riley softened her gaze and broke eyes contact. "Hi…" she replied timidly, looking at the table in front of the agent. "Who are you?"

Although confused with the sudden change in behavior from Riley, she replied without hesitation, "I'm Agent Ashley Seaver. You can call me Ashley if you want."

"Alright," Riley acknowledged, keeping her watch everywhere but at Seaver. "Where did everyone else go?"_ More specifically, where did Reid go? I feel like I can talk to him; he makes me feel safe. Where did he go?_

The agent thought for a moment before answering, "They went out looking for someone." She wanted to keep it mysterious; give the girl a taste of her own medicine.

"Are they after the killer? The guy who did this?"

"Maybe. It could be."

"Who is it?"

"I can't tell you that; it's confidential."

"I understand."

Riley stopped madly glancing around and looked at Ashley. She wasn't paying attention to Riley anymore, just watching the doors. Riley closed her eyes. _Oh I shouldn't,_ she thought to herself._ But it's going to happen eventually so I might as well do it now. Maybe I can trust her like I trust Reid._ Opening her eyes, Riley focused on Agent Seaver.

Agent Ashley Seaver was a young woman, definitely in her early 20's. She must have just started this job recently. Her early childhood was as peaceful as any; it wasn't until her teens that problems occurred. Something completely turned her life around and that changed her. Riley couldn't pinpoint that turning point but she knew it was devastating to this agent. That's the reasons she chose this profession; she assumed her insight would be helpful, she wanted to be able to help others. But she was wrong for choosing this career- she chose it for the wrong reasons. She doesn't have wait it takes to be in this field. She feels saddened and guilty on most cases, cases like Riley's. No matter how she felt, she always kept her attitude positive when working with her colleagues; she hid her feelings as best she could and it worked. For now. Eventually though, her personal feelings and experiences were going to burst out of her and she wouldn't be able to handle all of this pressure- she'll realize she isn't as much of as an asset because of her personal experiences as she thought she could be.

Movement caught Riley's attention. Seaver saw her staring at her. _Crap, she saw me analyzing her. What if she wants to know what I was doing? What is she going to say?_ Riley averted her gaze back to the floor and fidgeted in her seat a little. _Don't act so guilty. You're just being paranoid. Maybe she didn't even notice._

"Riley?" Seaver asked.

"Yeah?" Was Riley's only response. She wouldn't meet the agent's eye.

"Riley?" Seaver repeated. "Why won't you look at me?"

"I…I don't know you…and I don't really like eye contact unless I really know someone otherwise it's threatening and awkward. It…it just makes me uncomfortable."

"Alright. But may I ask why you were looking at me just then?"

"No, I'd rather not say."

"Why not?"

"It's too hard to explain."

"I don't understand."

_Yeah I don't understand it either._ "That makes two of us."

"What do you mean, Riley?"

"Nothing," she replied quickly. "It's nothing. Just don't worry about it, okay? Please."

Seaver thought about the quick conversation. What was Riley up to? Why was she acting so weird? Despite not knowing, Seaver nodded in agreement._ She probably didn't see my response anyway; she's too busy looking everywhere else,_ the agent thought with rue. _Maybe I'll mention this to someone later, if I remember. Reid might understand, he spoke to her extensively earlier. Maybe she acted like that before._

* * *

Reid and Rossi walked through the sliding glass doors and entered the hospital. Only a few people sat patiently in the waiting room. The agents walked up to the semi-circled front desk and waited for a nurse to come over and help them.

A young lady walked from a back room and approached the desk. "Hello, how can I help you two?" she asked kindly.

"We're here with the FBI and we have some questions about someone who was here earlier," Rossi replied, flashing his badge.

"Alright, I'll tell you what I can. What's the patient's name?"

"His name is Mason Anderson. He was here this morning," Reid answered.

The nurse walked to another part of the desk and typed away on a desktop computer. Five minutes passed while the agents patiently waited until the nurse finally located the file.

"Yes, Mr. Anderson was here earlier this morning around 8:30. He came in with a dislocated shoulder. The doctor on duty relocated it, gave him a sling and some pain killers, and the patient went on his way."

"Do you know what time he left?" Reid asked.

"He checked out around 10:15."

"Thank you for your time," Rossi said as he turned to leave. Reid followed him and they exited the building. Once out in the courtyard, Rossi pulled out his cell phone to call the man in charge.

"Hotch, Reid and I are leaving the hospital. Anderson arrived around 8:30 this morning and left around 10:15. He left with a sling and some pain meds."

There was a pause while Hotch replied to the news. Rossi said his goodbye and hung up. He turned to Reid, "Hotch wants us to go back to the station and wait for them; they're going to bring Mr. Anderson in for questioning if he's home."

"Okay, let's go," was Reid's only response as the pair returned to the SUV and drove away.

* * *

"Mmhm. Thanks for letting me know. He must be home. Where else would he go to take a load off? You and Reid go back to the police station. Morgan I will bring him in soon. See you there," Hotch spoke to his phone as Morgan drove beside him.

Hotch hung up and turned to Morgan, "That was Rossi. he and Reid just got done at the hospital. Mr. Anderson left around 10:15 with some pain killers. He's probably at home sleeping off the pain now."

"What if he isn't there?" Morgan asked.

"Then we will wait for him to come to us. We need to ask him some questions that can't wait."

Morgan simply nodded and continued driving. Another five minutes and the agents arrived at the Anderson residence. It was a basic, one-story, newly built home; most likely built by Anderson himself considering his occupation. Not much landscaping around the home, just a few trees and shrubs here and there, nothing as extravagant as the Walker home.

Hotch and Morgan got out of the car and walked toward the house. A bright red truck was parked out front, reassuring the agents that someone was home. They both walked up the three wooden steps to stand before the front door. Morgan pounded out a nice, even rhythm on the wood.

"Mason Anderson! Are you in there?" Morgan called.

There was a series of footsteps inside the home that sounded increasingly slow and quiet. "Go around the back and make sure he isn't running," Hotch instructed. Morgan nodded, took his gun out of the holster, and crept around the side of the house.

Around the corner, there was nothing but grass and the side of the house. Morgan heard Hotch continuously calling for , but no response from inside the house came back to him. Agent Morgan continued to move toward the back of the house. He rounded the corner and stopped as he heard a bang!

The agent hid behind the corner and peeked around to see exactly where the noise came from. A man was emerging from the house through a sliding glass door. He was of medium build, but shorter than average. He wore jeans, a T-shirt, and a ball cap covering his dark, brown hair- the typical apparel for someone living in Ohio in the summer. The most interesting feature about this man was the blue sling supporting his right arm. With a backpack slung over his left shoulder, the man looked prepared to leave for a while.

Morgan slid out from behind the corner and pointed his pistol at the escapee. "Mason Anderson! Hold it right there!" he called.

Mason turned, looked at the agent, and bolted off in the opposite direction, toward a small wooded area behind the neighborhood. Morgan put his gun down to his side and chased after him. It was a short distance to the woods, but with a sling on one shoulder and backpack on the other, Mason was quickly overcome. He let out a terrified cry as he was tackled to the ground.

"Hey! You can't tackle an injured man," Mason said with his face to the ground.

"I can when he's resisting arrest," Morgan retorted.

Mason grunted in response and pushed to get up. Morgan got off him and tugged on his free arm to help him up. Agent Morgan looked at the man before him and thought, _how am I supposed to handcuff him? He;s wearing a sling and a backpack._ He hesitated before he shook his head and told Mason, "Come on, pick your backpack up. You're comin' with me."

"Where're we going?" Mason asked stupidly.

"To the police station. We have some questions for you."

"No way! I didn't do nothing wrong!"

"Then you should have nothing to worry about. Let's go." Morgan pushed him back toward the house.

Hotch was waiting at the bottom of the steps when the pair got back to the house. He turned when he heard Morgan and the suspect approaching from the side. Mr. Anderson looked as if he had been trampled by a wild animal; Morgan on the other hand looked quite accomplished.

"I see you found him," Hotch acknowledged.

"I caught him trying to sneak out the back. He didn't get far," Morgan replied. "It's not hard to catch a guy running with a sling and backpack."

"Hey I'm standing right here you know," Mason cut-in, indignant.

"Oh, I know," Morgan shot back.

"Alright, alright. Let's get back. We have a few questions for you Mr. Anderson," Hotch states.

Mason gave the agents a "humph" and turned his head without saying another word. He followed the agents to the black SUV they arrived in without further defiance. This time Hotch drove, Morgan sat in the passenger seat, while Mason sat in the back by himself.

Halfway to the police station, Hotch whispered to Morgan so their company wouldn't hear, "I want you to call Rossi and tell him we're bringing Mr. Anderson in and an interrogation room better be ready. Also, put you-know-who in the viewing room. I think she might be interested in seeing this."

"Gotcha," was Morgan's only reply before getting his phone out to call Rossi. Morgan relayed Hotch's instructions; there were no concerns from the other end and the conversation ended. He glanced to the back seat to see if Mason had been listening. He was looking out the window beside him; watching the scenery go by, deep in thought; if he had heard anything from the agents up front he didn't acknowledge it.

* * *

"Who was that?" Seaver asked as Rossi hung up the phone. Reid and Rossi had returned to sit with Seaver at the police station ten minuted before. The three agents sat at the large table, with case information scattered across the table top. Riley returned to her nap after the confrontation with Seaver, who had not mentioned anything to the agents once they returned.

"That was Morgan. Hotch and he are bringing Mr. Anderson in now. They want us to put Riley in the viewing room with us. Hotch must want to see how she reacts to seeing him. Maybe she'll recognize him. Or maybe he wants her impression on him after hearing about what she told us."

"Sounds good to me; I'm a little curious myself," Reid commented.

The agents looked over at Riley and saw she was still asleep. "Yeah, but how do we wake her up and tell her? And what do we tell her?" Seaver asked. "It's not like we can say, 'Hey your father's coming in so we can interrogate him to see if he's the unsub."

"Well we have to think of something soon," Rossi returned. "Hotch and Morgan are on their way back now."

Reid spoke up,"What if we didn't tell her it was her father. We could just tell her we have someone who might have done it and we want to see if she recognizes him. It's half the truth."

"That could work," Rossi speculated while Seaver nodded in agreement. "Who's going to wake her up and tell her?"

They looked at each other but no one answered. After a moment's pause, Seaver and Rossi both looked at Reid. He looked up and was surprised as he realized why they were looking at him.

"Why do I have to do it?" Reid whined.

"She explained her story to you and only you. Clearly she feels more comfortable around you than either of us," Rossi stated matter-of-fact.

"Yeah but, but," Reid stammered as he tried to think of a counter. He couldn't come up with one. He sighed and gave in, "Fine, I'll do it."

Reid got up from the table and walked over to where Riley sat in the corner. She sat perfectly still; Reid could see the steady rise and fall of her chest. He reached over and tapped the girl lightly on her arm.

"Riley?" Reid whispered. "Wake up."

The girl shifted in her seat and blinked slowly as her eyes opened. She looked around in front of her with a startled look, which soon faded as she recognized her surroundings for the second time that day. Her gaze landed on Reid and she become curious but calm.

"What's going on?" she yawned as she stretched her arms upward, obviously comfortable with him.

"Well, Morgan and another colleague of ours, Agent Hotchner, are bringing a man in to ask him some questions. We want you to come and watch and maybe you'll recognize him."

Riley sat and thought about what she was being offered. _They think I'll recognize him? I can't, I didn't even see him, I swear! Maybe they really want to see what I think about whoever this is. Maybe it's some kind of trick to get me to talk about how I do the things I do…Maybe that girl told them about how I acted around her and now they're suspicious of me…But regardless, don't I want to see who they are bringing in?…I do…_

"Okay, I'll come," she decided out loud. _Just don't say a single thing. You know what to do. Keep it in your head._

Reid stood with a small smile, "Good, follow me."

Riley followed the agent around the corner and down a long, dull hallway. The walls were covered in gray paint, nothing interesting or creative about them. This whole building seemed lifeless to Riley, she always loved to look at the colors and creativity in buildings. In this building, there was none, and Riley despised it. There were four doors down the narrow corridor, two on each side. Each door was a darker gray than the wall and had a small window near the top.

The pair entered the first door on the right. It was a small, gray, square room with a few chairs and a large window on one wall. Through the window was another blank room with similar gray walls, a table, and two chairs facing each other._ I don't think this place can get any more exciting_, Riley thought sarcastically.

"Wait in here. We'll be back in a couple minutes," Reid told her.

"Who am I waiting for?" she asked before he closed the door and left.

Reid stood in the doorway and thought of how to respond. He couldn't tell her it was her father; he could give his name but she probably knows him-she said she did earlier. "Just wait," was all Reid could come up with before he walked away, leaving Riley alone in this mysterious room, with an even more mysterious problem in front of her,_ who will come into that room?_


	7. Chapter 6

**Alright everyone here is the next chapter! Getting close to the end; this is the second to last chapter. I know this seems like a really short story but I already have a series outlined to follow this one up. Thank you for the follows and favorites! Keep reviewing to tell me what you guys think! Enjoy!**

* * *

Slam! Riley snapped her eyes open as she heard the closing of a distant door. She caught herself drifting off sitting in one of the chairs in the room when a man walked into the room in front of her. He's dressed in a blue t-shirt and jeans, with a ball cap covering his dark hair. He carried a black backpack in his left hand, but threw it down on the ground at the foot of the table as he sat down the chair facing Riley. His right arm was supported by a simple blue sling. Riley got up out of her chair to stand directly in front of the window pane. Their eyes locked through the glass (whether the man knew it or not) and Riley recognized him instantly. She glanced at the dim reflection of herself in the glass and compared it to the man on the other side. _Dad._

The door to Riley's room opened, surprising her away from her thoughts; Agents Rossi, Seaver, and Dr. Reid walked in. Rossi was first to speak, "Hi Riley, are you sure you're alright with being in here? You don't have to be here if you don't want to be."

"I don't mind being here," was her simple answer as she tried to play off how bad she actually wanted to be here. _I want to know if he did it. No. It can't be him. Why would he do this?_ Rossi nodded and all three agents took spots standing beside Riley in front of the glass window.

Agent Morgan and another man in a suit entered the interrogation room. The man in the suit sat down in the seat across from the suspect while Morgan stood in the corner facing the glass mirror.

"Who's the man in the suit at the table?" Riley asked before the interrogation began.

"Agent Hotchner," Seaver answered simply.

Riley acknowledged her answer and focused on this new agent.

Aaron Hotchner was a strongly built, stern man. He seems to have had much hardship in his life. He has such a rough exterior, it seems likes he's always serious, always professional. He's not though, there's something that brings joy to his eyes every once in a while. He's not always cold inside; something makes him soft inside. The rough, stern outer image is just a rouse. He uses that outer image to handle all the dark and grim things he sees through this line of work. But he doesn't work all the time, something outside of work keeps him human. _What could that part of him be?_

"So Mr. Anderson, why did you try to run? Do you have something to run from?" Hotchner asked his suspect.

"I don't have nothing to hide from no one!" he replied defiantly.

"Then why did you run?"

There's a short pause before Mason answered, "Well what else was I supposed to do? If cops surprise you at your house what would you have done?"

"I would have stayed where I was and did what they said. Now, Mr. Anderson let's discuss what happened to your shoulder there. How did that happen?"

"I hurt it working the other day."

"If you hurt it the other day, then why do your medical records have you showing up at the hospital this morning?"

"I didn't need it looked at until this morning."

"Hmm that's interesting. It's convenient that your ex-wife and her husband are found dead the same morning you arrive at the hospital with an injury. An injury that could have been sustained by jumping from a second story window."

"That does sound convenient but it also sounds a little far-fetched don't you think? It sounds like you're speculating a lot of information here…"

Morgan left his corner to slam his hands down on the end of the table. "Cut the crap, Anderson! We know you are responsible for the deaths of Emily and Henry Walker!"

Calmly, Anderson returned, "Hmmm well when you say it like that…nope still don't have any recollection of murders or jumps from second story windows."

"Then maybe these will help you remember if you were there or not," Hotch began as he opened the manilla folder in front of him, took out crime scene photos, and placed them in front of Mr. Anderson. "This is what you did to this couple. You slit their throats while they were sleeping. They didn't even have a chance to fight back. You killed them and left a thirteen year old girl orphaned. Your own daughter! Did you do all of this for custody of her? Is that it?"

"No, I did this for her!" the suspect exploded with a manic smile on his face. "It's what's best for her!"

Morgan held the photos up closer to his face, "You killed her parents and stabbed her for her own good?!"

"Yes!" Anderson replied before calming himself down. In a level, steady tone he spoke again, "I want to see her."

Hotchner replied, "And why would we let you do that? What have you given us to prove you should have the privilege of seeing her?"

"Let me see my daughter and you'll have my confession."

"Why do you need to see her?" Morgan questioned, still fired up.

"I want to see her in person. There are things I need to tell her. I just want to see my daughter for the first time." He put on his widest, sweetest smile. "Do me this little favor and I'll cooperate with anything you have in store for me."

Hotch stared at him, determining his sincerity before he spoke aloud, "Morgan, follow me." The agents left the room, closed the door, and stood in the hallway. Reid, Rossi, and Seaver quickly joined them as Riley stayed in the observation room, glued to the glass as she absorbed every word her father had just said.

"Do you think he'll confess after we let him see Riley? Or is he bluffing?" Seaver said once both doors were closed.

"I looked genuinely resigned and sincere when he said he would confess if he saw her. I think he's serious," Rossi replied. "But is the risk of letting Riley in there worth it? Will he try something with her in there?"

Morgan spoke up, "I'll go in with her. He never said she had to come in alone. I won't let anything happen to her while I'm in there."

"I think we should let her decide. Maybe she doesn't even want to speak to him," Reid argued.

Hotch picked up, "Well there's only one way to find that out. I'll go in and ask her." He walked into the observation room to find Riley standing at the glass window. Her face was solemn but curious as she looked through to the man in the other room.

Hotch closed the door behind him, walked over to Riley, and knelt down beside her. "Hello Riley, I'm Agent Hotchner. You can call me Hotch if you want, that's what my friends call me."

Riley tore her gaze away from the other room to look at her company. "Hello."

"You saw the interrogation didn't you?" He asked kindly.

"Yes. And I'll do it."

"You will go in and talk to him? Are you sure you're alright to do this? I know this has been an…eventful day for you. We don't want to pressure you into doing something you're uncomfortable with."

"I'll talk to him if it helps you. I don't mind that much." _And I want to hear what he has to say. Why did he do this? I want him to look me in the eyes and tell me, straight to my face._

"That's good. Thank you for doing this, Riley. It's very helpful to us."

She nodded, understanding, and Hotch rose to open the door for her to exit. The agents glanced at her as she walked out of the viewing room, keeping her own gaze straight ahead down the hallway. Behind her, Hotch gave a nod and Morgan spoke up.

"Riley, I want you to know I'm going to be in there with you the entire time. You have nothing to be afraid of while you're in there."

She looks up into his hazel eyes, "Thank you, that…that makes me feel better."

With that Morgan smiled and led her into the interrogation room.


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: Here's the final chapter for this story! If you enjoyed it, don't worry, there is a second one! Fair warning, this story gets a little unrealistic at the end but there really is no logical way to make it work so bear with me. Thank you to everyone favoriting, following, and reviewing this story. It's much appreciated!**

* * *

The pair walked calmly into the interrogation room together. Morgan migrated to a corner behind Mr. Anderson and stood there like a statue, silently observing the goings-on. Riley approached the table, only glancing at the man a few times before pulling the chair out and sitting down. She folded her hands in front of her on the tabletop, waiting for this man to speak.

A grateful look crossed Mason's face as he saw his daughter. "I thought I'd never get to see you. I never thought I'd get to see my daughter in person." He split a wide, ecstatic grin.

"Why did you of it?" Riley asked briskly. His feelings unrequited. She didn't care about his feelings for her, she wanted to get down to the details. Why did her father kill her parents?

The smile was immediately wiped off his face and replaced with a look of disbelief, "Riley…I just want to talk to you."

"And I just want to know why you would do this." A warm tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away with the cast on her right arm. "Why would you do this to me?"

Tears pooled in Mason's eyes. "God has a great plan for you. He wants you to continue your work and succeed. He told me to do this for you and…and I couldn't resist."

"You…you're following Him? He…He had you do this? Why…Why…"

"He has a marvelous plan for you. He's told me," her father told her, but Riley didn't hear him. She was too busy with her own thoughts._ He had my parents killed for one of his stupid jobs?!_

More tears streamed down her face as she spoke forcefully, "I'm not following Him anymore. If…if this is what He does then I don't want to be a part of it."

"This was all for you, Riley! He planned all of this for you! Why can't you see that?"

"This isn't something I would want! I don't want this! Why would you think I"m better without my parents? I loved them and you killed them and now I have no one!

Mason held his hands out in desperation, "You'll always have God! He has His plans for you. I hope you understand them because I don't, but He needs you!"

"I don't care! I don't need God or anyone like Him…You know what, I'm done here. You've talked to me now give them what they want. I have nothing more to say to you."

"No. No, Riley don't leave. Talk to me, I don't know anything about you! I want to know you!"

Riley got up to leave the room. "Just leave me alone, please. You talked to me, now give them your confession or whatever. I just want this to be over."

She opened the door, but before she could leave, Mason spoke again, "He will get what He wants. One way or the other it will come to Him. He always gets what He wants. Be careful, Riley."

Riley turned to look her father in the eyes. His green emerald were like a window into his misery. Suddenly Riley understood how He had tricked Mason into going along with Him. Mason did all of His dirty work while He sat back and got information. That's how He worked, Riley saw it all now. Mason's eyes showed a man trapped forever in his past deals. _This won't happen to me. This _can't _happen to me._

She gave her father a terse nod and left the room. Never to see her father again, Riley made a mental visual of him to inspire her to keep going ever day. An inspiration to not turn into him. _Be stronger than he is. Don't let others control your life. Especially not Him._

Out in the hall, Riley spotted Reid coming out of the observation room. She let out a deep sigh, grateful that conversation was over with, but dreading this one with Reid.

"Who were you talking about?" Reid asked, not as subtle as he originally intended.

Knowing this question was coming, Riley answered smoothly, "What do you mean? It's just like God, you know. _The_ God. Everyone's God."

Reid looked unconvinced, but Riley changed the subject before he could question her, "What…what's going to happen to me now?"

"Well we have to call child services and they will look for relatives for you to stay with."

"What if I don't have any relatives to be able to stay with?"

"None? No aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents?"

"I know what a relative is, man, and no. None that would be able to take care of me. They're all like old and in nursing homes." She looks at the interrogation room door. "When this all started I thought I would live with him but now it's not looking like that will happen…"

"Usually when child services can't find a relative, they place you in foster care and find you a new family."

A thought occurred to Riley. "But what..what if…um…" _Just spit it out, Riley!_ "But I want to stay with you guys!" She burst aloud.

"What?" Reid sputtered, surprised by her exclamation.

Riley, avoiding direct eye contact as usual, explained herself, "Well..it's just that…I feel like I was useful here with your team. I thought..I thought I hoped here; what would stop me from helping on other cases?"

"You were helpful and we thank you for that, but what you're proposing would be totally unorthodox and against protocol. It takes years of training and schooling to become a cop let alone an FBI agent."

_I just want to belong somewhere. I thought I could belong here,_ Riley thought to herself. her melancholy thoughts leaked to her outer emotions; Reid saw her dismay and had to think of something quick.

"Tell ya what, Riley. I will talk to the rest of the team and see what they think. Okay? How does that sound?"

"I guess that would be alright."

He let out his own sigh of relief, "Good. Let's get out of here then."

Riley murmured agreement, "I thought this day would never end."

Reid gave a small smile and they walked through the hall to the main lobby of the police station. Riley looked back toward the interrogation room just once. After that one glance her life took a turn for the better.

The agents did call child services but after much consideration, they found her a foster home in D.C so she would always be close. Riley visited the agents regularly and helped on cases when they allowed her discovered they liked having her and her uncanny abilities of profiling around. She befriended all of the agents on the team of course, but grew closest to Reid. Their high intellects made them great companions. They were always discussing or arguing over some matter both on and off the job and grew to trust each other like they've never trusted another before.

Everywhere Riley was sent with the team she understood everything thrown at her. "Why do you think he committed this murder so sloppily?" "How old do you think the unsub is?" "Where is he going go strike next?" All these questions answered as if she'd been doing this job for 20 years. And her answered were always spot-on; the agents began to trust and rely on her on occasion. While this ability was handy on cases, it wasn't always ideal. She not only learned information about criminals' behavior, but also about her new team, her new friends. Some good things, some bad. Some harmless little facts, some deadly. The most deadly were their weaknesses. She didn't want to know them; they just came to her. Riley was burdened by this until the day her loyalty was tested.

* * *

**So concludes the first of the "Riley" series. The next story will be called "Loyalty" so be sure to look for it! I hope to put it up in the next day or so! And as always, feel free to share your thoughts on this story!**


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